Reading Minds: There Is No Such Thing
by sweet-destiny3
Summary: Ron's thoughts are as hectic as those vehicles muggles ride in when in traffic. But his thoughts, on this particular day, are about one person: Hermione Granger. Read and Review!


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Author's Note: This is my first Harry Potter story. Something new to me and something that also seemed to come very natural to me. I wrote this in two days. I love the books and the movies and I thought I'd write what I would like to happen, in first person. So enjoy, and review! I love reviews and I desperately need some! If you like this story and if you are into X-men then check out my other stories which are all X-men. The movie and Evolution. Thanks a lot!

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Disclaimer: I don't own them. These thoughts aren't mine. They're a character in which I disown. : )

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Reading Minds: There Is No Such Thing

Thoughts are hectic. Thoughts could be compared to many of those vehicles muggles use to travel with that are sometimes stuck together on one of those roads. Something Harry once told me was called traffic. I know that thoughts and feelings are usually understood in one's mind, rather than in the words they speak so often.

…I don't want to wake up so early….What Fred and George did was low, but funny--…Blimey, did Hermione really understand what Professor Flitwick was saying?…I wonder how their joke shop is going?…Malfoy is such an idiot, and his father…Harry had told Sirius…Divination used to be the worst class on my schedule, but Firenze was pretty good…Quidditch practice went alright yesterday, hope it doesn't go so bad today…Hermione looks really nice today…Honestly, where did they think of the name 'Hogwarts' anyways?…Harry, Harry, Harry…It was always about Harry…No, Ron, don't go there…You're his best friend…Stop thinking such thoughts…Krum this, and Krum that…I wonder if there's any magical creatures more dangerous than the ones Hagrid has shown us already?…Why doesn't she just live in Bulgaria?…I wonder what it would be like to be Harry…Attention…But that's not always good…Does Hermione think I'm a complete idiot for even joining the Quidditch team?…Spiders…She didn't even see me when I was doing well for the first time…Mummy…Boggarts…Does she think I could never match up to Krum?…Seamus seemed really angry today…What does she see in Krum anyways?…Neville has been acting more on instinct lately every time Malfoy opens that big, ugly mouth of his……

Those were my thoughts _yesterday_. Today was a normal school day for everyone in Hogwarts, but not for me. Today was a day after the night that awkward dream had come to me. She had been there and I had been here and then we were together, lips touching, her arms around my neck and mine on her waist. Those were my deepest thoughts becoming clear in my unconscious mind. I was not thinking of Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration, or Care of Magical Creatures. I was not thinking of Quidditch or lunch or sleep. Today was different for me because all I was thinking about was Hermione.

I ignored everything Harry was saying and found myself quietly fixated on Hermione. Today, I seemed not to care about the rubbish the teachers were saying, not that I rarely ever did. But once someone asked what the matter with me was, I felt my face flush hotly. My only reply was, "Nothing, oh, nothing."

"I read it in _Hogwarts, A History_," Hermione said as I focused on my food that I was planning to eat, but in reality, was only staring at it in deep thought. She was always talking about things she found interesting and things I found quite boring. But it's amazing how much she takes in from all those books. "Honestly, Ron, are you even listening to me?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry," I said as I stuffed a piece of apple pie into my mouth. What was I supposed to say, 'Hermione, I wasn't listening to what you were saying because I was paying too much attention to ignoring you before I make a complete fool out of myself for staring'. It was a little ridiculous to be said out loud. But those were my thoughts, something I knew were the hardest things to express, especially if we're talking about a girl here.

"If you keep doing this in class you're going to fail all of your exams," Hermione stated to me in such a factual manner. I always acted like all this nagging bothered me, which it really did, but I wouldn't have it any other way. In fact, it sort of turned me on. What am I saying? What is wrong with me? I've never thought about Hermione this much. On an average day I wouldn't think about her because I would be with her half the time and when I slept, that's when my thinking--or dreaming would take place.

"Hermione, it's only October, exams are in June," I said with as much sarcasm as I would have usually shown to her over exaggerations. We argued most of the times, and like I said, I wouldn't have it any other way.

It seemed as if the power of life, as Professor Trelawney had once said, was working against my every thought today. The power of life is a mind reader, I tell you. In Care of Magical Creatures, I let what looked like a fish with human ears slip from my hands and head straight for Hermione's bushy brown hair. That thing had sharp teeth, that was the worst part about it. She wasn't in Potions to take notes with--I mean for us because she was in the hospital wing, growing all her hair back. And to think, she had once gone to the hospital wing to get rid of all the hair she had as a cat in second year. _That _was pretty funny. But it's not funny today because I was the one who caused it.

But in second year, what I failed to reveal to anyone was the terror that had struck me when Hermione was petrified. She was frozen solid. I went to the hospital wing to give her a single flower one night, without Harry. No one knew of this, thank God, not even her. She probably thinks I'm the most insensitive boy who ever walked this earth. And the truth is, I could be sometimes.

But in third year, what I thought she thought of me was proven otherwise. She had found comfort with me when the Ministry of Magic, the imbeciles, as Dad likes to call them, ordered Buckbeak's sentence to death. I never wanted her to let go of me. I wanted to comfort her with every comforting skill I could have managed. But that stupid rat, Scabbers, bit me. Twelve years he's been in my family and on that day I found out that he's a servant to Lord V---Lord V--V--He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Sometimes, I imagine me telling Hermione that I fancy her more than anyone and an expression much like mine when I found out about Scabbers, appearing on her face.

Let's skip fourth year for a moment and talk about the memorable times for me. Fifth year, when I had very little confidence in my Quidditch playing, Hermione encouraged me a great deal with that kiss she gave to my cheek. Not exactly where I would have liked it the most, but something that made shivers creep through the whole of my body and something I wanted to savor. That was the best memory that I could muster out of all five and now going into six years we've been here.

I saved the worst for last. What had happened today in Herbology (my plant attacked Hermione's plant) or Transfiguration (my wand turned Hermione into a rabbit, and then, well, into a swan, and then---shall we move on then?) could not add up to the most horrible Christmas in my entire life: fourth year.

It had been the Triwizard Tournament and a famous Quidditch player who goes by the name of Victor Krum arrived, taking quite an interest in Hermione. The Yule Ball had arrived in December where the boys had to ask girls to go with them as their dates. Hermione was the first and only girl that came to my mind, but people weren't mind readers. I was supposed to put it into words. How was I supposed to do that exactly? We're friends. Very good friends. I would think people would agree with me that I found it awkward to ask a girl whom I speak with everyday to a Ball. As a date. With nice clothes.

I had found a way to ask her. I played an idiot at it, also. I acted casual about it and acted as if she was the only one left who was a girl, and I was the only one left who was a boy. I asked very casually if she'd go with one of us, Harry and I that is. What I meant is 'go with me'. I should have known a girl like Hermione would have already been asked. When she told me she was already going with someone my heart sank to my stomach. It floated for a moment as my mind tried not to believe what, deep inside, I knew was truth.

My heart was hurting, it was actually hurting. When she walked in with Krum, looking so unbelievingly beautiful, I thought I was about to break something. But thinking didn't help with anything. If I thought about something and never acted on it, then what happened at the Yule Ball was bound to repeat itself. That was exactly how I felt today.

At the Yule Ball, everyone went speechless (even Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson) at how outstanding Hermione looked. But I knew otherwise. I knew she would look even more beautiful than she already is. I found myself scowling at Krum, who used to be one of my favorite Quidditch players. That night we fought until Hermione said something that left me speechless. She knew that I was angry that night because she went with Krum and not me, rather than my excuse about her dating the enemy. Honestly, how do females know this? Are we that obvious, or is it just me?

After the thought of Krum, I found myself sitting with Hermione and Harry at a table in the corner of the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione was writing her pen pal a letter. I had told Hermione last year that Krum wants to be more than just friends. What does she write in those letters anyways? Does she honestly write how much she wants to be with him? I didn't know, she never discussed anything with us about Krum!

All the anger, all the silence, all the events that I had caused today had built up in my head and heart and I felt myself burning with fury. I decided to break my thoughts and speak them out loud instead. Although they never really came out in the way I wanted them to. "What do you two talk about anyways?" My voice had come out harsh at first, but not very high in sound.

"That's none of your business," Hermione said to me with disgust as if she was clueless of my jealousy. Maybe she was; I was most of the time. What was coming out of my mouth at the moment hadn't hit me as jealousy, or anything at all. I was just speaking what was on my mind, and heavily on my heart.

"Shouldn't you be doing your homework?" I asked, trying to divert her attention away from that piece of parchment.

"I'm finished with my homework, Ronald," Hermione said in a strict voice. She peered over to look at my parchment and quill and found it empty. "I see you need help with that homework your bothering me with, hmm?"

"I have everything I need to write written in my thoughts. I just haven't got to writing it yet. Is that a problem with you?" I found myself back talking.

"Only if you have a problem with my writing to Viktor," Hermione said with a little shakiness in her voice. I like to see her smile rather than seeing her angry, but she always looked beautiful when she was angry. Arguing was in our nature when we were together. Now, I just have to find a way to shut her up.

"Oh, why don't you tell Vicky that I said hi," I said with cruelty as Crookshanks jumped off Hermione's lap and onto Harry's, who was silently doing his homework as if it was silent in the room. No heads turned to look at the two of us because they were pretty much used to us sniggering at each other. Sometimes I thought Harry found this amusing more than it was. Did he suspect I fancied Hermione?

"Victor doesn't want to hear about you for your information!"

"Oh, yeah, he's dying to hear about what you've been doing lately. Soon, he's going to tell you that he doesn't like how you always hang out with Harry and me!"

"It's 'Harry and I' and what do you have against Viktor, anyways?"

"It's been two years since you've seen him, what do you and _Vicky_ have to talk about?"

"We talk about a lot of things, for your information. At least I can have a decent conversation with him. You know, one that doesn't include arguing!"

"It's impossible to argue with a guy when you talk to him through a piece of parchment. Anyways, he's probably found somebody else already."

"Fine, Ronald," she told me very quietly and put her nose back into her letter. What was I getting at arguing with her anyways? It didn't make a difference. She was still sitting there, across from me, writing that letter. I wanted to take that parchment and rip it to pieces. Little bits and pieces. My face was red and I found myself staring at Hermione. She was blushing furiously for some reason as she scribbled furiously, too. She had stopped arguing with me before Harry had said anything. I found this very…awkward.

Everyone began to shuffle out of the common room and to their dormitories. Harry, me, and Hermione were quiet at the table. Harry looked so weary as he was getting up to retreat to bed, leaving Hermione and I alone. Not just alone on the table, but in the whole common room.

"Harry, why're you going to sleep so early?" I asked with a sort of pleading look. I didn't want him to leave. I didn't want him to leave us together, alone. Not today. Not when I had this urge to be alone with her. I felt my pulse racing for some reason. This wasn't the first time we were left alone, but like I said already: today was different.

"I think I'm about ready to drift into a deep sleep standing up," Harry said wearily as he climbed the steps with heavy feet. "Night."

I was speechless to my best friend. I hadn't spoken to him all day. I hadn't spoken to anyone really. Only Hermione, and that obviously hadn't worked out too well.

She was writing, one line after the other. Her head shaking, her hair bouncing, her brown eyes focused. Her mouth was set in a grim line as if in deep concentration, in which she seemed to always be. My eyes wouldn't leave that grim line that was set in her mouth. "Hermione…" I started on instinct, but I never finished my sentence.

She looked up and then I waved a hand to signal that it was nothing. "Hermione…" I wanted to tell her, but I just couldn't, I couldn't.

"Yes?" Hermione's voice sounded less irritated.

"Never mind," I said casually. I couldn't tell her like this, it was too awkward. She was paying full attention to me when I brought her attention to me and I just couldn't do it.

"Hermione…"

"Oh, for God's sake, Ron, what is it?"

Good, she was becoming irritated. No, I couldn't do it. Should I say something to her. How was I supposed to say it if I decided to anyways? "Hermione…" her head shot up and so did her eyebrows. "Hermione…I…couldyouhelpmewithmyhomework?"

"I knew that was what you were going to ask me. Your hopeless. Sitting here for hours, and you haven't accomplished a single sentence yet," she said as she motioned for me to sit next to her. At least I would be closer. Oops…I think I said that a little loudly in my mind. I hope she couldn't hear my heart racing.

"Well, I couldn't understand a word Professor Flitwick was saying," I said truthfully. That was the truth, but needing help with my homework was only half the truth. I just had this urge to be closer to her.

My thoughts had begun to pour through my mind and I couldn't stop them. That's what silence has done to me. I mean, do I really understand what Hermione is saying at the moment…If I could just get a little closer to that letter…I see the word 'friends'…. Wow, she smells really nice…. It must be that perfume I gave her for Christmas last year…. Her hair is tickling my nose…. What in the world is she writing?…. Does she honestly believe I'm paying attention?…. Does she feel my body tensing?…. How does she understand this rubbish?….She still thinks I'm paying attention….

"So that's how he explained it. But I think he complicated it more than it needed to be complicated. Ron, are you even paying attention?" Hermione asked as she rolled her eyes and brought something out from her backpack. "So I've put in all the homework that is due next week. We'll finish them on Friday, so we'll have Saturday and Sunday to hang out. Ron?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm listening," I lied.

She handed me my homework planner, the one she bought Harry and I for Christmas last year and resumed her newspaper to Krum.

Thoughts began to cloud my mind again. This time more rapidly. Kiss… Krum… Hermione…Yule Ball… Kiss… Letter…Yes… No… Maybe so…No more thoughts! I had to tell her everything I was thinking. But how was I supposed to do that? I didn't know, so I acted on instinct. I couldn't take it anymore! I just couldn't! My hands reached towards her face and pulled her to my lips. I didn't even feel like me. That wasn't what I imagined a first kiss would be like. I imagined she would be paying attention.

But while she had been writing the letter she had been blabbing about how I needed to be more organized. I finally found a way to shut her up. And it was Heaven.

I never contemplated the thought of being a bad kisser or a good one, but I guess Fred and George were right. When a person desires another person so much, the kiss is going to be electrifying no matter what. It took me six years to retrieve the courage to do something so… courageous. I had even accidentally kicked the letter she was writing to Krum off the desk with my elbow. That was also a desire I had wanted to do for so long!

I don't know if it was to my surprise or not, but she became less tense for a moment and kissed me back. Her warm hands around my neck. Then, many, many seconds later and not to my surprise, she pushed me away and slapped me on the face. At least it wasn't as hard as she had hit Malfoy in third year. That _was_ the best moment of my time here. But now this was on the top of my list.

"Ron… you… you… deliberately… how _dare _you!" she shrieked as she gathered all her books together and headed towards the stairs that connected to the girls' dormitory. "Uh, that completely…oh! How rude!" she screamed. My face turned into a frown as I watched her go.

I buried my face in my hands for acting on instinct. Now, she'll probably never speak to me again. I found that was the only way to express my thoughts. Thoughts were not meant to be put into words. Not all thoughts at least.

After fifteen long minutes of me sitting in the common room alone, with my face buried in my hands, I thought I heard her voice.

It didn't sound too friendly, but it didn't sound at all harsh. It sounded somewhere in between. A smile crept to my face as I heard her voice speak loudly, "Good night and pleasant dreams to you!"

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